


Sacrifice It Gladly

by QuickSilverFox3



Series: Summer Whump Challenge 2020 [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26646868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3
Summary: “Geralt!”Geralt’s head snapped to side at Jaskier’s cry — high pitched and almost swallowed in the crush of noise at the market — eyes staring at the empty spot where the bard had been standing only moments ago.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Summer Whump Challenge 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861159
Comments: 4
Kudos: 158





	Sacrifice It Gladly

**Author's Note:**

> 03 Stabbing

“Geralt!”

Geralt’s head snapped to side at Jaskier’s cry — high pitched and almost swallowed in the crush of noise at the market — eyes staring at the empty spot where the bard had been standing only moments ago.

Shit.

Fuck.

His hand was on his sword before he even realised he was moving, the crowd parting like the sea before him as he ran, a deep growl rumbling through his chest. It was a small town, barely larger than a singular market surrounded by a few houses with more nestled on the boundary of dense woodland and yet it felt as if he was in the busiest market of Novigrad — the press of people against his shoulders, mud clinging to his boots like grasping hands, heartbeat deafening in his ears. 

The mission had been a comparatively simple one — rumours distorting it the further the whispers traveled, creating monsters out of every twisted shadow until the terrified screams reached Geralt’s ears. Jaskier plucked the notice from the board, squinting at it as he read, mouth moving silently as he parsed through the cramped text written in a trembling hand; and pressed it into Geralt’s chest.

Geralt was slower with his words than Jaskier, tracing over the letters as he read the notice, curled up on their bed in the tavern, trying desperately trying to not be distracted as the other man bathed — water running down the curve of his spine, hair darkened to a rich mahogany in the flickering lantern light, the scent of lavender heavy in the air. 

“A child?” he asked, mouth running dry as Jaskier peered over one shoulder, the strap of his bottle of oil clenched in his teeth. 

“Thought you would be interested,” Jaskier replied, voice slightly muffled as he removed the bottle from his mouth, turning his face up to Geralt’s for a kiss — a wordless request that the Witcher was powerless to deny and had no desire to.

One quick removal of an iron horseshoe placed above an ailing child’s window and the job was done, the Nisse’s anger abating once he was able to see the child again. Geralt caught sight of the small creature — hat turned rusty from old blood, but hands covered with dirt from farmwork — scrambling up the side of the house for it’s gift. 

Jaskier had tucked into his side the moment they were out of sight of the farmhouse, coin purse jangling at his hip — never more than they could afford to give, just enough to cover a few days stay and to replenish their supplies. 

Geralt finally broke free of the crowd, Jaskier’s pale face, one hand reaching for him reflexively burnt onto his eyes, imprinted onto his very soul, as the man pulled him backwards, blade at the bard’s throat.

“Let him go,” Geralt growled, voice dipping into something monstrous, magic crackling around his hands. His world seemed to slow as the would-be mugger’s eyes locked onto his, widening as he realised his mistake, Jaskier lashing out backwards with his dagger — small, hidden in a wrist cuff and the culmination of several days of careful work, Geralt’s eyes burning with strain and fingers littered with new scars — and twisting to one side. His blood was red against his pale skin and Geralt moved, feeling his muscles rip as he moved, flinging himself between Jaskier and the mugger as the man reared back to strike at his fallen quarry.

The hit was a good one, directed at Jaskier’s chest so striking Geralt firmly in his stomach, piercing through the recently patched section of his armour — Jaskier pressing his fingers through the tear and waving them at Geralt, smoothing his hand over the section as they travelled, until Geralt finally fixed it just to smooth away the worried crease in his brow. He heard the metal hiss as it broke into his flesh, blood instantly blackening the metal, and the man’s wrist creaked in his hand as Geralt grabbed him. 

“Fuck off,” Geralt snarled, pulling the man closer, catching the sheen of his bared teeth and pale hair in the man’s wide eyes, before releasing him and he ran, forgotten as Geralt turned to see Jaskier. 

He was pale, but Jaskier stretched up to cup Geralt’s face, touch soft and reverent, before his gaze dropped to the blade protruding from Geralt’s stomach.

“We’re going back to the room. Now,” Jaskier urged, tugging on Geralt’s arm, grip tight and clumsy in his worry.

“Are you okay?” Geralt reached out to tip Jaskier’s face upwards, careful fingers tracing over the sluggishly bleeding scratch on the bard’s neck. He wanted to hunt down the man, rip him limb from limb for daring to hurt Jaskier, the bard’s blood warm on his fingers.

“Geralt, you’ve been stabbed. Now let me take care of you.”

**Author's Note:**

> [ My Tumblr!](https://inkformyblood.tumblr.com) Requests are always welcome!  
> 


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